


Seas Will Cover Lands

by Achrya



Series: Jason and the Avengers [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Avengers Family, Awkward Flirting, Clint just adopts all the messed up kids, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Pietro Maximoff Lives, SHIELD Husbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4454909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are undoubtedly one of the strangest families around but they make it work. Featuring Bucky's dark sense of humor and nerf gun, Clint, Phil and their strays, Steve Rogers’ Sunrise Training for Idiots and Masochists, a Tony who wonders what all these crazy people are doing in his building, Jason Tood's many issues, team bonding, awkward flirting, and really awful coping skills. </p><p>A series of stand alone stories set in my 'Jason Todd and The Avengers' universe, based off of various prompts, focusing on the Avengers as a really strange family unit.<br/> </p><p> <em> Prompt 100: Heart: She looked up at the farmhouse again and nodded. “Sure. I want to join SHIELD.”</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>His eyebrows climbed up until they were practically one with his hairline. “What?”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 63. Bandaid

**Author's Note:**

> So in my other challenge collection (The One to Push) Jason mentions ‘Steve Rogers’ Sunrise Training for Idiots and Masochists’ and it lead to some talk and then some ideas and here we go. Some fun team based adventures for Jason and the Avengers and it’s all fun and snark and fluff. I was going to just stick all this in The One To Push but it doesn’t really...fit. Ah well. *continues spinning this absurd little universe* I’d say this is 1 year after Bleed Until I Can’t Breathe starts, and a little over eighteen months after Ultron.  
> Will update as oddly domestic ideas strike me/fit themes.
> 
> Unrelated title is unrelated
> 
> For Prompts: http://100themeschallenge.deviantart.com/blog/33698652/ (There are 5 variations and I might swap as I feel the need, but I'll never duplicate numbers)

 

Clint frowned at the socks spread out in front of him. Some were his, some were Phil’s, some were tiny and must have been Nat’s (Had they been purple he would have said Kate and Wanda didn’t wear anything that wasn't tights or knee highs with combat boots) and some were of undetermined origin but probably belonged to the other kids. All of that he understood; sometimes they all just kind fell together into a lump after training with Steve the Sadist (Clint cringed on reflex, half expecting a nerf dart to come flying out of the shadows or an air vent or...anywhere, really. Bucky was vicious when it came to protecting Steve's 'honor'.) or a mission and socks getting mixed up was pretty common.

That wasn’t his issue. His problem, and it was a very big problem, was how he had 20 socks with no matches. How did that happen?

He had theories and they involved gnomes but last time he’d tried to bring it up to Tony (Who Clint had thought would be at least a little concerned about his beloved tower being infested by sock stealing gnomes) had just sighed and told Friday to contact Phil to ‘come and collect his mentally damaged husband.’

Something touched his shoulder and he started then turned to see Kate standing behind him. She was dressed in workout clothes, sunglasses perched on top of her head, purple streaked hair pulled back into a bun and a shallow cut below her eye bleeding sluggishly. She made a gesture to his ears, the more or less universally accepted sign for ‘Hey, I was calling you but you don’t have your ears on so don’t be mad okay?’.

Universally accepted in the tower at least.

He nodded then motioned to her face, asking for an explanation. Sometimes gestures were much more succinct than speaking.

“As it turns out I’m not up to knife fights with Bucky yet.” She said, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

Clint snorted and dropped down to one knee to fish out the box of bandaids he knew had ended up under the bed but kept his eyes on Kate so he could see her reply. “Why were you using real knives?”

And, more importantly, who had let her knife fight Bucky of all people? That was basically dropping her in the deep end of the pool without a flotation device, even for Kate who was pretty impressive with a wide range of weaponry (But years under the careful tutelage of Hawkeye and Black Widow would do that. Also Clint had pretty suspect parenting skills and had thought giving the teenager he'd picked up a bow and arrow was a great way to help her adjust and of course Natasha had thought knowing how to fight a man twice her size was a skill every girl needed.)

“Because the only way to really give your all is if you feel like you’re in actual danger.” Kate said primly. Clint stared. “What? That’s what Cap says.”

“Of course it is.”

Steve was a good guy and Clint loved him like a brother (except that he kind of hated his brother so maybe that wasn’t the way to describe it.) but the man had some real sadistic tendencies. Clint was pretty sure he’d set up his early morning training exercises as a way to burn off energy while Bucky was working on being less crazy.

Personally Clint didn't think Bucky was ever going to get any less crazy but no one had asked his opinion. 

His fingers brushed something smooth and vaguely rectangular. He got down closer to the floor and managed to get his fingers around it and yank it out. He stood up and shook a bandage and disinfecting wipe out.

He ripped open the wipe then tilted her head up, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes again and her lips formed complaints about being babied and being a grown woman (She wasn’t actually talking, just mouthing the words at him with a mocking tilt to her lips. He could tell the difference.) He had her wiped off and a vibrant purple bandaged pressed onto her face in short order. She grinned toothily then slide her sunglasses from the top of her head onto her nose.

“Thanks old man.” She glanced over at the bed. “Sock gnomes again?”

\---

Clint was raiding Bruce’s refrigerator (Bruce and Steve was the only people who ever actually had food) when the sound of something shattering had him turning around to look at the other man. Bruce pushed past him to the sink, holding his hand which was dripping blood.

“Stay back!” Bruce snapped when Clint started to edge towards him. “And watch your feet. I don’t...just. Don't touch anything. I’ll clean it up.”

He put his hand under the flow of the water, blood rushing down the drain. Clint blinked at him then looked over where Bruce had been standing, drinking a cup of tea while he looked at the paper. He looked over the now shattered mug and then the paper, spotted the words ‘Dr Elizabeth Ross’ in the headline then looked back at Bruce. The other man was breathing hard, shoulders and back ramrod straight and stiff with tension, but he didn’t look like he was about to lose it or anything.

Not that Clint had really expected him to, but he was pretty sure Bruce has expected himself to.

Clint patted down his pockets then hummed happily when he emerged with a pair of dark red bandages. He set them on the counter then pushed them towards Bruce slowly.

Bruce glanced at them then laughed breathlessly. “Do you carry these around everywhere?”

“Yeah man. Have you met my kids?” Clint asked, offering a half smile.

Bruce nodded. “Of course, I forgot that you’re a collector of people prone to bleeding at the most inopportune times.”

“Lucky for you.” Clint said. “Where would you be if I hadn't collected Nat?”

Bruce snorted. “Fiji, Clint, I’d be in Fiji. Have you been to Fiji? It’s beautiful.”

Clint just held back from asking if it was a magical place. (Different island and Bruce wouldn’t get the joke anyway. He’d tell Phil about it later and they could laugh and feel angry and betrayed about it together)

“And miserable.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment then slowly nodded his agreement. Clint slapped a hand to his shoulder then picked his way out of the kitchen carefully, avoiding the drops of blood on the floor.

\---

Phil glanced up as they all but fell off of the elevator and slunk into the living room. They were all scrapped up with bruises starting to form and covered in red, white, and blue bandaids.

“What happened?”

Wanda groaned from the tangle of limbs she and Pietro had collapsed into. “Rogers and Stark.”

Phil nodded because of course it was those two. He couldn’t think of anything else that could beat up the people sitting in front of him so thoroughly and if Wanda was calling Steve by his last name it must have been really bad. 

“Tony reprogrammed those doombots from last month.” Natasha added while touching her split lip carefully. “Gave them cloaking and reduced the noise they make.”

“And then Steve dropped us upstate in the woods.” Kate continued.

Clint claimed the spot on the couch next to him, but had his legs were draped over the arm and he shoved at Phil who set aside his paper and raised up his arm so Clint could rest his head against his thigh comfortably.

“And?” He prompted while putting his arm back down to drape over Clint’s chest

“And then made us play ‘Flag Tag’. With the doombots.” Clint shot him a truly pitiful look.

“There’s something wrong with him.” Jason was perched on the back of the other couch, just behind where Kate was sitting, somehow making it look like the most natural position ever. Which didn’t stop Kate from shooting him wary looks.

“He’s a sadist.” Clint pointed at Phil accusingly. “He gets off on this. I bet you’ve known all along. I bet you help him think this stuff up. You would, wouldn’t you?”

“He would.” Natasha looked at him suspiciously. “He’d do anything for Steve. Maybe he's working for the enemy.”  

“I am not.” Phil flicked Clint on the forehead.

"That is what a enemy spy would say." Wanda pushed herself up to rest on her elbows. Pietro wiggled around until he was draped rather unceremoniously over her legs. "He cannot be trusted." 

"Maybe we should tie him up and discuss a course of action?" 

"Dude." Kate scrunched up her nose. "Gross." 

"Don't use paranoia as a cover for bondage." Clint's smile could only be called lecherous. “And Steve Rogers does not get off on hurting you all.”

At least Phil didn’t think he did.

...He hoped he didn’t.

“Doombot tag?”

Natasha nodded solemnly. “Cloaked Doombot tag. With the lasers turned on.”

"Full contact." Kate said. "I saw one tackle Sam to grab his flags."

Phil could feel his childhood shift and crumble again. “He might be a sadist.”

\---

“Fuck!” Jason’s shout was followed by a clatter of metal, what sounded like the shattering of glass, and then a dull thunk. Steve looked up from his book, alarmed. Then realized that no one else had even moved.

Natasha was still acting as yarn holder for Bruce while checking Wanda’s yoga form. Bruce was still knitting away, looking completely serene. Clint was still sprawled on the couch, ice pack on his eye, while Coulson ran fingers through his hair and flipped through the paper. Bucky was sitting on the floor next to Steve, looking at nerf guns on Amazon (Steve was tempted to ask what that was all about but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to know.) and Pietro was still flipping through the channels at warp speed.

No seemed at all bothered by the noises coming from the kitchen.

“God damnit cock sucking son of a-" Jason broke off as a series of thumps and the sound of rushing water filled the air. Steve was pretty sure something was on fire. He set aside his book and started to twist around on the couch.

“Don’t.” Bucky said, leaning against his leg slightly.

“But-”

“I know you think you can help but believe me when I say this is one thing you cannot fix.” Bucky put a hand on his knee, expression deadly serious. “Jay’s inability to cook makes my freezer burned brain look like a minor problem.”

Steve let out a surprised bark of laughter then smothered it, trying to school his expression into something disapproving. Sam said he was supposed to encourage Bucky’s gallows humor and there were lots of times he couldn’t quite keep himself from laughing but as a general rule he felt like it was in poor taste.

Bucky patted his knee, smirking, then returned to the tablet in his lap.

Something slammed and a moment Jason was shuffling into the room holding a plate with a charred...something on it. Steve thought it might have been a grilled cheese, as there was a bit of bright yellow oozing from it, but everything else was charcoal black and he didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“Hey. Clint? You got any bandaids?” The hand that wasn’t holding the plate was bright red and starting to peel and blister in some spots, particularly around the finger tips.

Clint snorted then rolled off of the couch and shuffled out of the room. Jason flopped down next to Bucky and poked at his mass of coal and cheese dispassionately.

Pietro looked over and wrinkled his nose. “How did you manage to burn it like that?”

“This from the man who burnt a pot trying to boil water.” Coulson said mildly. Pietro had the grace to blush before turning his nose up.

“That was a honest mistake. It could have happened to anyone.”

Wanda, who was holding wheel pose (Steve occasionally did morning Yoga with Nat and Bruce and had picked up a think or two) while Natasha nodded her approval, laughed. “You are impatient. You always forget about what you are cooking and leave it while you run and get take out.”

Pietro glared at the TV darkly. “It’s not my fault everything takes so long. You don’t understand what it’s like.”

“Here we go.” Wanda sank down and smoothly flowed into boat pose, resignation thick in her tone.

Bruce looked up from his project, a lavender something or other. “Here what goes?”

Wanda and Coulson groaned in unison and Natasha sighed. Pietro however looked delighted. He jumped up and whizzed over to sit next to Bruce.

“Imagine you are in the post office behind a woman with 20 packages who wants to know every single way she can send them to Sokovia and the person behind the counter keeps insisting it is impossible because giant craters and import laws and the woman keeps insisting? It makes you crazy, right? ...well not you, because then you’d probably smash her into paste or maybe exactly you because you’d never actually do anything-”

“We’ve established I would have Clint kidnap the woman’s family and call her with a ransom demand to get her out of the line.” Natasha add helpfully as she nudged Wanda with her foot, pushing her hands closer together. “And if she had no family I would have Clint escort her out on official SHIELD business.”

“Normal people who are not Black Widow would think to themselves, "Why do I have to put up with this? These people are so slow, they're costing me time, and it is so damned irritating. I wish I did not have to put up with this." Pietro said, waving his hands around so fast that they were little more than blue blurs. “That’s me. All the time. Everyone!”

"Interesting." Bruce set down his project, eyes gleaming in a way that was eerily similar to Tony when the billionaire had been given the green light to fiddle with their gear. “Do you experience the world in slow motion?”

“Not exactly.” Pietro’s face screwed up in thought. “It is not that things are slow, it is that I know they could be faster.”

“Too bad water only boils so fast.” Wanda said, sticking her tongue out. Steve coughed to cover his laugh but Wanda’s impish grin let him know she’d caught it.

“Have you considered getting laid?” Bucky asked. Wanda's expression became one of vague disgust.

Pietro blinked, momentarily startled, then smirked. He blurred and was sitting on the other side of Steve’s legs, reaching over to put a hand on Bucky’s leg hesitantly. Bucky looked down at the hand then leaned back against the couch, lips quirking up.

Pietro seemed to take that as a good sign because he left his hand there and leaned closer, heedless of Steve’s legs doing their best to act as a barrier.  “Are you offering?”

Wanda made a gagging noise. Steve agreed silently agreed with the sentiment. His fingers itched to reach down and push the speedster away. Bucky’s eyes flicked up to him, and he could see laughter there, then slid over to Jason who was staring pointedly at the TV and gnawing at his sandwich.

“Nah, just curious. Might help with that boredom thing you have going on.”

“You sure?” Pietro waggled his eyebrows. “It’d probably take a super solider to keep up. Or two.”

Jason dropped his sandwich onto the floor. Bucky snorted. Jason’s hand came up, a singular finger extended. Steve watched it all but mostly looked at the hand Pietro had on Bucky’s leg. Bucky was still skittish as far as people touching him went and yet he was letting Pietro practically feel him up.

...Steve was willing to admit to himself that perhaps ‘feel him up’ was something of an overstatement.

Jason shot Pietro a dark look. “I not sure someone who fails to boil water would know what to do with two super soldiers.”

“I could figure it out.” Steve couldn’t but noted that Pietro yanked his hand off of Bucky like he’d been burned when Jason looked at him. “At least I never sliced my finger off making peanut butter and jelly.”

“That happened once.” Clint muttered, returning with a yellow and white box that boasted ‘Captain America and Friends’ on the side. Steve frowned at the cartoon Captain America and Ironman on the side. Was there anything out there without some version of his face on it?

Jason caught the bandaid box with his not burned hand and started pulling them out. Steve watched as he peeled the paper off of one, revealing a bandaid covered with images of a tiny cherub-like Black Widows flipping over a red background.

It was frighteningly adorable.

“Wait. Are you supposed to bandage burns?” Jason asked, looking up at Steve like he expected him to have the answer.

“I mean,” Clint said as he flopped back down on the couch and swung his feet into Coulson’s lap. “You cut off the tip of your finger while you’re making a sandwich one time and they never let you forget it.”

“You fuck one sheep.” Natasha intoned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sock Gnomes. Real or not? I suspect only Clint knows the truth.


	2. 66. Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the CEO of Stark Industries and Phil were good friends, good enough that Pepper had smiled at her broadly and said “You must be Phil and Clint's daughter, Kate.” She’d missed Kate’s dumbstruck expression because she was what? ...Was that not just a joke? Is that what they told people!?!  
> Why did that make her want to smile so hard her cheeks hurt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ultimate Universe has given a few really great things and Kate Bishop as a member of a family involved with Hydra is something that is just...made for this story. So you know. Hail Marvel. Anywho. Smushing 616!Kate with Ultimate!Kate.  
> This ended up SO much longer than I expected. So much. But Kate demanded a full story and who was I to deny her?  
> TW: Sexual assault and death

When Kate’s life fell apart it did it all at once. And often.

One minute she was the youngest daughter of some distant but seemingly generally decent people, just past her thirteenth birthday, walking back from a dress fitting for her sister’s upcoming wedding, cutting through a park to get home faster.

And the next she’d been clutching her torn clothing and trying to sneak into the house so no one could see her, see what had happened and everything was just...different. She licked her wounds in private, grateful that it was summer and that when she huddled in her bed and claimed to be sick that her mother didn’t know her well enough to feel like she could come in and check on her.  

There was no going back to the way her world had been before and yet it was only her that changed. No one else knew, no one suspected and that was how she needed to be.

She wasn’t in denial, Kate Bishop didn’t do denial, and it wasn’t a matter of suffering in silence or blaming herself  because she didn’t.

She was just angry. Good old fashioned pissed off to the very core of her being because the world was changed and she hadn’t asked for it to be. She’d been a good kid, a good daughter and sister, she volunteered and did all the things you were supposed to do but none of that meant a single thing.

The world wasn’t safe. People weren’t safe. She wasn’t safe and she knew that she never had been and that knowledge wasn’t something she could give back or forget and it changed everything.

And pissed her off.

Couldn’t forget that part.

She signed up for boxing, mma, and fencing classes and threw herself into them. She went to the gym everyday, pushed herself until she was ready to collapse, lived with constant soreness, and came home with split lips, black eyes, and bruises all over. She wasn’t sure if her parents noticed but her sister did and had taken to fretting about her looking like she’d been in a fight on her wedding day.

She impressed her trainers and maybe freaked them out a little bit with her enthusiasm. Three months after walking into her first boxing class she was thinking about how to fit archery in with everything else and school when her life changed again.  

She’d been sitting at one of the outdoor tables of a Starbucks when a man dropped into the seat across from her. He was older, her father’s age at least, with cool blue eyes and a receding hairline. Nothing distinctive about him at all, he could have been anyone or everyone and yet she got the distinct impression of something more.

“Hello Ms. Bishop.” He smiled genially and extended his hand towards her and she, Kate Bishop who hadn’t allowed herself to show any outwards signs of things being different, wouldn’t let herself talk about it or be found out, and refused to be anything except for angry, flinched.

Just for a second she was somewhere else, a man’s hand around her mouth, being forced onto her stomach and

Except that wasn’t where she was.

She was surrounded by people, she was outside Starbucks at noon for goodness sakes, and people and cars were literally everywhere. This man was not going to grab her and drag her off.

She forced herself to relax. The man withdrew his hand and reached into his suit jacket, pulling out what looked like a wallet. He placed it on the table and pushed it towards her.

“I’m Agent Coulson, with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” She flipped open the wallet, took in the round silvery badge and the ID card inside then pushed it back.

“That’s a stupid name.” She didn’t bother with the polite ‘Must deal with people’ voice that her parents made her use when they introduced her to people and made her attend functions.

“At least we aren’t the Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies.” He smiled again but this time there were lines around his eyes and a brightness that hadn’t been there the first time.  

“Yeah. That would be much worse.” She glanced looked down at her bag sitting at her feet. Could he do anything to her if she just got up and left. “What do you want?”

“Coffee would be nice.” He glanced towards the inside of the store as he spoke, a note of longing to his voice. “The coffee at the office is genuinely the worst I’ve ever had. Maybe a slice of the lemon loaf too.”

Kate blinked. Coulson glanced at her.

“Want anything? It’s on us.”

\---

Finding out her parents were part of some mostly defunct Nazi cult thing was, actually, not all that surprising. It should have been and she knew that but, honestly, she didn’t know her parents. She didn’t want to get all ‘Poor little rich girl’ about her life or anything but that was the simple truth. Her parents could have been circus performers or mafia or secret royalty and it would have all had the same level of impact.

‘Oh. Well. I guess I could see it.’

Her reaction didn’t seem to be appreciated.

Agent Shad, a woman with amber skin and long black hair slicked back into a severe bun, arched an eyebrow. Coulson had departed to parts unknown and this woman was her new babysitter; Kate had decided right away she didn’t like her as much.

After Coulson had gotten his coffee and lemon loaf (and insisted on getting her two of those big oatmeal raisin cookies and another coffee “Trust me Ms. Bishop, you do not want to resort to what we’re trying to pass off as coffee) he’d asked her to accompany him back to ‘their offices to discuss her parents’. She’d been wary but then Shad had turned up and given the impression she didn’t have much of a choice.

She’d been taken to a pretty generic looking office building and stuck into room that’s main features were a metal table and three metal chairs bolted to the ground and a wall to wall mirror that, she imagined, people were watching her through it.

Whoever it was had to be bored of this.

Shad wasn’t interested in talking about anything but her parents and Kate couldn’t think of anything that interested her less. Shad had given her a crash course in Hydra (Very bad people, basically wiped out during the second World War but some Hydra associates had gone underground, had families, recruited and passed along their ideals.) and how her parents were involved (It seemed her mother came by it naturally, a Hydra family, and her father had been recruited with promises of money and power.) and what had exposed them (Seemed her sister’s future husband was Hydra and had a girlfriend who’s family was Hydra and the girlfriend was none too happy about being regulated to mistress, so she’d gone spilling her guts.)

Kate had listened, nodding occasionally, then told Shad she honestly wasn’t all that surprised about any of it (except that something so silly was the downfall of everything. There was a lesson about faithfulness in there.)

Then they’d gone back and forth for a while, Shad asking her questions about her parents and sister and their associates and Kate being unable to do much except shrug and explain that really and truly she didn’t have much contact with her parents or their ‘associates’. Sometimes they dragged her out to make nice with other rich people’s kids but for the most part they left her to her own devices.

Shad had just gotten to the point where she looked like she wanted to strangle Kate when the door opened and a man stepped in. He was blond, wearing purple tinted sunglasses, a purple t-shirt and jeans, and medical boot on his left foot. Shad’s expression went from annoyed to absolutely murderous.

“Specialist Barton.” She hissed through clenched teeth. “I assume I’m being pulled off and you’re taking over?”

“I like to call it ‘Giving you a much needed break.” Barton’s smile said that wasn’t what it was at all. “You have more important things to do than babysitting duty and I’m basically useless is all.” He pointed at his foot for emphasis.

Shad didn’t look convinced. She grabbed all of her things and stalked from the room stiffly, an air of barely contained violence following. Barton waved after her, smirking, then cut his eyes over to Kate.

“You ready to get out of here?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. She was absolutely ready to go but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere with some guy she didn’t know. Though. He was injured, clearly, so maybe that was in her favor.

“Or not. We can sit here. The atmosphere is lacking and I thought you were supposed to meet your boxing trainer at 5 but-”

“You’re taking me to the gym?” Kate sat up straighter. He shrugged easily.

“You got somewhere else to be?”

She didn’t.

It was surreal, walking in to the gym and lining up with the others in her class when her parents were who even knew where and people were probably crawling all over her house, her room, looking for information, and she had some kind of government agent babysitting her but...it was good. It helped.

Barton stayed close, flopped in a chair with his leg propped up, but seemed totally oblivious to what was going on, attention absorbed by a magazine.

They grabbed pizza after and Barton (“Or you know. Clint. Clint is fine.”) asked what else she was into and she talked about fencing and considering archery (he’d smirked at that) and whatever else she could make time for. He told he’d fractured his ankle jumping off a building without a harness (“Seems stupid.” “Ah. Yeah.”) and he didn’t ask about her parents or what she may or may not have known.

He took her back to the office building, to a small room containing a bed, dresser, and TV. There was a door that lead to a tiny bathroom, shower, sink, toilet.

“Is this a cell?” She asked after the approximately five seconds it took her to see everything. “Am I under arrest?”

“I think we’re calling it protective custody.” Clint shuffled over to the lone window and tapped on it. “Your parents are part of a terrorist cell with some history and a lot of money behind it. Someone might think you know something and need to be kept quiet.”

“Only if they’re idiots.” Kate muttered, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. “Whatever. Thanks for taking me to class, I guess.”

“Sure.” He nodded at her and then was gone. She couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the way the door clicked when it shut. She tried it a few minutes later, found that it was very much locked, and then threw herself on her bed, curling up on top of the blanket.

She cried until she threw up then cried some more.

\-----

Barton wasn’t so bad. He showed up with some of her clothes and her school stuff the next day, informing her she was doing ‘distance learning’ for the time being. He didn’t comment on the fact her eyes were bloodshot or that she looked like she hadn’t slept at all.

She appreciated it.

He took her through the winding halls and stairs of the building (“We’d use the elevators but I’m trying to confuse you on purpose, just in case you’re a tiny spy.” “I’m 13.” “Right. I figure you could have at least 7 years of training under your belt. At least.”) until they came to a shooting range. A compound bow was slapped into her hands, arrows supplied, and a target pointed at.

She was awful and expected to be told so but Clint just watched, gave pointers, and had her do it again. And again.

The next day was fencing, the day after that her martial arts class (Clint looked up from his book long enough to laugh every time she hit the mat) and two weeks crept by like that, with her deposited in her Not-Cell at the end of the day and locked in. She didn’t ask about her family and Clint didn’t offer any information and she was more or less fine with that, too busy being tired and sore to really care much.

She whined about the room on occasion but she didn’t expect much to come of it.

Until it did. 16 days after being put into protective custody (“Detained illegally.” “Patriot Act.” “Lets you kidnap kids?” “Sure.” The grin he flashed her was made of pure evil.) when he showed up, foot free from the boot, and told her to grab all of her stuff and come on. She’d thought she was being taken home and she couldn’t help but feel dread twisting in her stomach.

They ended up in a small two bedroom apartment in Manhattan. Clint let her have the bigger room, showed her around the neighborhood, and when she went to bed that night Kate was forced to acknowledge that maybe she had Stockholm Syndrome.

She didn’t try to run or get away. For one, no where to go what with everyone she’d ever known probably being terrorists and all. For two, she was getting the hang of the archery thing and Clint was talking about arranging for her to spar with some of the baby agents if he could get his bosses to agree.

Three, after a month in the apartment she wandered out of her bedroom early one Sunday morning and found Agent Coulson making pancakes while trying to avoid being felt up by Clint and it was so fantastically awkward that she wanted to stay in the moment forever.

They were kind of adorable in an old people kind of way and she couldn’t help but like it when Coulson was around. She told Clint it was because the other man actually cooked and didn’t expect her to live on pizza and Chinese food but really there was, once you got used to the subtle expressions and way he just popped up places without making a sound, something kind of comforting about Coulson.

He called her Katie and she hated that but all in all it wasn’t bad at all.

When the other shoe dropped it hurt worse than losing her parents had.

\----

“What the fuck?” Kate asked, frowning anxiously at the unconscious blond woman who seemed to be bleeding pretty hard from a head wound.

She and Clint had been leaving her fencing lesson, heading through the parking garage to the car, when a blond woman in a skintight black catsuit had lept out at them. Kate had found herself shoved between two SUVs while Clint wrestled with the woman who, frankly, had been kicking his ass. Kate had taken a run at her but a vicious backhand had left her sprawled on the ground, dazed.

Then a redhead on a motorcycle had come tearing off the ramp and after that it had been almost like a dance, the two women moving together fluidly, dodging and ducking perfectly.

“Oh, Pretty Natalia.” The blond crooned after backflipping away from a kick that looked, to Kate, like it would have taken her head clean off. “Have you forgotten how to dance?”

The redhead smiled serenely. “Learned a new dance, Маленький паук.”

The blond smiled back, started to lunge forward, and then gasped, teetered to the side. Kate could see the head and part of the shaft of an arrow piercing her shoulder. The redhead grabbed her, slammed her face first into a car twice then threw her on the ground and kicked her hard across the face.

Clint limped out from somewhere, bow in hand. “Friend of yours?”

The redhead shrugged then glanced back at Kate. “Yelena. We were in the ballet together.”

Clint nodded, looking over at her as well. “Hey, Kate, this-”

“What the fuck?”

Clint looked taken aback then sighed. “I did tell you someone might want to kill you.”

Kate tried to push herself to her feet, so she could yell and panic properly thanks very much, but a wave of dizziness had her swaying and pitching forward. The redhead darted over to her and caught her in surprisingly strong arms.

“Get Yelena. I’ll get her in the car and call it in.”

Clint muttered something Kate couldn’t make out but apparently did as told. A few minutes later she was tucked into the back of Clint’s car and watching as the blond woman, now bound with zip ties, was dumped into the trunk. Clint shut it then limped around to the passenger side, handing his keys to the redhead.

“This is Natasha.” Clint said once they were pulling out of the garage. “She’s been shadowing us since I was assigned to you.”

Assigned to her.

Kate didn’t wince. Instead she just sighed, prodding what was probably going to be a nasty bruise. “Just in case a psychotic blond attacked us?”

“Yelena isn’t psychotic.” Natasha said, glancing up to look at her in the rearview mirror. “Just following orders. Unpleasant ones, yes, but no different than myself or Clint.”

Assigned to her.

“And yes. We suspected someone might want to clean up any loose ends, even if it was a child who doesn’t think she knows anything. They are very tidy.. People within the agency were skeptical, don’t believe Hydra is organized enough to be associated with the Red...with the people responsible for Yelena but Clint and I felt differently.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Plus they hate him.”

Clint tossed her a rueful smile over his shoulder. “I took something from them a few years ago and they’re carrying a grudge. We thought if I was the one looking after you they’d send some heavy hitters.”

“Yelena was unexpected but good luck. Losing her will be a serious blow.”

“So I’m bait.” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so dull.

Clint blinked then looked over at Natasha. Natasha stared back, eyebrows raising fractionally. Clint frowned slightly and Natasha twitched. Clint’s frown deeped and Natasha’s lips quirked upwards.

“Don’t do that.” Kate muttered. “That talking without talking thing? It’s bad enough when you and Phil do it. Forget I said anything, I’m taking a nap.”  

“Pretty sure that is the exact opposite-”

“Leave her be.” Natasha said, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “Rough day.”

She didn’t expect to actually fall asleep but she found herself somewhere warm and soft with someone calling her name. She blinked her eyes open, momentarily surprised to find herself on Clint’s couch of questionable origin.

“Katie?”

“Ngh.” She shifted slightly, cringing at a stab of pain in her head. “Phil?”

He smiled at her, warm and genuine. She wanted to cry. “Concussion check. I hear you got hit pretty hard.”

“Where’s Clint?”

“Helping Tasha with her...sister.” He said the last word slowly, like he was testing it out. “I made soup. Hungry?”

Phil did make fantastic soup. She nodded and got to her feet, shuffling after him to the kitchen, which smelled amazing. She all but collapsed into a chair and tugged one of the two bowls on the table close to her.

They ate in silence save the buzz of Phil’s phone every so often. He’d look, sigh, roll his eyes fondly, and then tuck it away.

Must have been Clint.

Who was assigned to her. What happened when the assignment was over? Where did she go then? Foster care? Actual protective custody? Away?

That night she dreamed about the park for the first time in seven months.

\---

Two nights later she woke up to the sounds of Clint and Coulson arguing. Not any louder than they usually talked but their voices were sharp, angry. She slide out of bed and crept closer to her door to hear them better.

“-She’s in danger. We proved that!”

“You proved there was danger. The Council don’t think the Red Room will be sending anyone after losing Yelena and they aren’t convinced she wasn’t just after you.” Clint made a choked off noise of disbelief. “I know what Yelena said but they don’t believe her. They want you back on normal assignments.”

“I want a fucking pony.”

“We can’t afford a pony.” Phil said, sounding endlessly patient.

“Fuck you-”

“I don’t see how that’s going to help the situation but if that’s-”

“And Fury-”

“Well-”

“And the World Security Council.”

“That might be harder to arrange.”

“Don’t make me laugh, asshole.”

Kate got back into the bed, rubbing at her burning eyes angrily. She didn’t even know why she cared, she barely knew them. They’d plucked her from in front of a coffee shop and kept her under near constant supervision for months. She had no idea what had happened to her parents or sister or anything like that. She was basically a prisoner who...was allowed to go outside and learn all sorts of stuff. And sparred with government agents twice a week. And maybe she was about to learn to use a polearm or something and it sounded stupid but Clint said he knew a woman and well, she kind of wanted to know how to handle all of the weapons ever.

Stupid. She knew she was here because of her parents, had always known she was in ‘Protective Custody’.

No one had ever pretended otherwise.

She’d just...gotten comfortable.

Felt safe.

\---

She waited to be taken away. Every time they got in the car she expected it to be last time and for every knock on the door to be someone coming to collect her but it never was. Life rolled on. She wasn’t watched all the time, not that it mattered since she was kind of a hermit and afraid everyone she’d known before was secretly a terrorist.

Her birthday came and went three times.

She learned ASL; Clint was too impatient to teach her, always grumbling about how he read lips and his hearing aids worked just fine, but Phil wasn’t. She learned Russian, something Natasha said every girl should know (Along with how to shoot a target from a thousand yards).

Natasha also decided to teach her hand to hand combat and she dropped the other stuff because keeping up with the beatings from Natasha was practically a full time job. She and Clint kept working on her archery and after a really good session he’d ruffled her hair and told her she was maybe the most gifted bowman he’d ever met other than himself. That had lead to a long ramble about whether or not he could count himself or not but Kate had been too busy trying to keep her heart from exploding from something that might have been happiness to really hear it.

Natasha was around a lot, except when she wasn’t, and she always seemed to literally materialize out of thin air. One minute Kate would be flipping through her English textbook and the next she’d have Natasha leaning over her, telling her how to translate what she was reading into Russian.

She got the distinct impression that Phil was living with them because he was always there. She mentioned it once and was graced with two near identical bewildered expressions. Natasha had laughed and stage whispered that Clint and Phil hadn’t realized they were living together yet.

Shortly after that Phil just kind of vanished and she was just starting to worry that it was her fault when she caught Clint watching the senate hearing dealing with Ironman and his armor. She leaned over the back of the couch and said something about that Stark guy seeming like a dick.

Clint started laughing hard enough that his eyes teared up and he just managed to gasp out that Phil would absolutely agree.

Then both Phil and Clint were gone but Natasha turned up from wherever she’d been. Clint had left before, but never for more than 2 or 3 days but this time it was much longer. She worried, Natasha called her ‘Моя небольшая стрелка’ and told her not to worry.

They came back with sunburns and stupid souvenirs from New Mexico.

\------

“Hey, Kate!” Clint waved a pile of papers at her when she came through the door, Phil at her heels. “Wait. Is that ice cream? Did you bring me ice cream?”

Phil froze then looked sideways at Kate. “Yes?”

Clint looked at the cup Phil held out suspiciously. “I hate cookie dough.”

“Do you?” Phil asked, face carefully blank. “I must have forgotten.”

“What’s up with the papers?” Kate asked, toeing off her shoes.

Clint gave Phil one last dark look. “School papers. I’m tired of seeing you here all day so I’m enrolling you in school.”

Kate stared, mind screeching to a halt. She’d been in distance learning for 3 years now and it was fine by her. She kept up with her studies, was ahead of the curve as far as she knew, and it left her lots of time for other stuff. Also enrolling her in school? Could Clint do that? That was very...parental. 

Phil turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. Clint didn’t appear to notice either of their reactions. 

“No? No. The three of us should pick something new.”

Phil backed out of the kitchen abruptly. “Three of us?”

“Sure. What if I’m not around and Kate decides to taser some handsy little brat and someone needs to come in and defend her or make the kid and their entire family disappear? Or, you know, someone respectable is needed.” He pointed at Phil, in his fitted suit, then at himself in torn jeans, over-sized black sweater boasting no less than five holes, and bits of a pale lavender shirt peeking through the holes. “You don’t want Kate to only have one scumbag parent do you? Don’t be a deadbeat.”

Kate blinked rapidly then looked at Phil for help. He looked equally as bewildered.

Clint narrowed his eyes at Phil. “We should get married.”

Phil opened then closed his mouth before staring at his melting ice cream as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

“You guys aren’t married?” Kate’s brain finally joined the party. “Oh my god. I’m a bastard.”

Phil’s expression was one of pure betrayal. Clint looked delighted.

\----

They got married. Kate was a GroomsMaid or whatever it was called when there was no bride and got to wear a fancy dark purple dress Natasha helped her pick out and Clint and Phil thought could stand to be a little less fitted, and she bleached then dyed the ends of her hair Purple Haze.  It was a small thing, with only her, Natasha, Nick Fury, Jasper Sitwell, Maria Hill, Bobbi Morse (who slipped her a new set of battle staves when no one was looking) and Pepper Potts in attendance. Apparently the CEO of Stark Industries and Phil were good friends, good enough that Pepper had smiled at her broadly and said “You must be Phil and Clint's daughter, Kate.” She’d missed Kate’s dumbstruck expression because she was what? ...Was that not just a joke? Is that what they told people!?!

Why did that make her want to smile so hard her cheeks hurt?

Afterwards they hit a karaoke bar and ate a ton of cake and sang and it was basically ridiculous and absolutely perfect.

She didn’t think she’d ever smiled so hard or took so many pictures (all developed herself and then kept in photo album with a lock on it in a locked safe kept in under a loose floorboard in her closet because Security.)

Kate was hustled off to spend two weeks with Natasha and other than the awkwardness of finding Yelena was also staying with Natasha it ended up being fun. She returned home with a new pair of purple tinted sunglasses, the tips of her hair dyed ‘Blueberry’ and a dog.

Clint and Phil weren’t totally sold on the dog but in the end they named it Lucky and it slept at the end of her bed at night.

Two more birthdays and some wedding anniversaries slid by. Phil stuck close to New York for the most part (except when he didn’t), Clint continued to keep his missions short, and Natasha was...well she was Natasha. She came and went. Sometimes two or all three would go at the same time and Kate pretended she wasn’t aware of Yelena watching her from the building across the street from the apartment.

She learned to worry less when they were together.

She got souvenirs from all sorts of places and stacked them on her desk and dresser happily, including little figurines from Abidjan, wasabi and ichimi flavored kitkats from Japan (never opened because wow), and painted eggs from Budapest. The Russian nesting dolls Natasha and Phil brought her were her favorite though. The chunk of ice from the Arctic in some machine that looked like a snow globe and kept the ice perfectly preserved was her least favorite because the goofy smile Coulson had been wearing when he came by that day to shower and check up on her before going right back out had just been weird.

She dated a guy named Eli who Phil had adored, a guy named Miles who Clint loved, and a girl named America who Natasha thought was the best thing ever.

She stopped worrying about being taken away and started thinking about college or maybe joining SHIELD.

\----

Kate was roused from sleep by her Other Phone. Normally she was slow to wake up but this was the Other Phone, the phone that she never used and sat, always charged and never touched on her bedside table.

She had it on and pressed against her ear before the third ring.

“Has Clint tried to contact you?” Phil was all business and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. But it was expected, if someone was using this phone then there wasn’t time for anything except business.

“No.”

A pause and the sound of someone yelling in the background then Phil sighed. “If he does you need to call me. Don’t tell him where you are, don’t agree to meet him, don’t trust him.”

Panic tried to crawl up her throat, tasting like bile and acid, and she swallowed. “Okay.”

“Okay. Someone is coming to get you. Pack fast.” Another pause then Phil’s voice softened. “Stay safe Katie.”

And he was gone.

Yelena showed up five minutes later and they, along with Lucky, were in the Poconos two hours after that. She sat and waited, the other phone always within reaching distance. She fired arrows into trees under Yelena’s careful watch. Yelena let her fire her gun at bottles and nodded approvingly when she hit every target. They sparred and Yelena put her down on her ass every time but Kate just got back up.

No TV, no radio, no wi-fi, and she only had the Other Phone which she dared not use for anything other than waiting on the next call.

It was hell. She’d felt like her heart was being squeezed, like she was struggling to breath, and her eyes burned the entire time. She couldn’t sleep and barely ate.

She was on the pull out bed inside the cabin they were staying at, a bag of frozen peas on her eye and nose (Broken but then pushed back into place), when a car rolled up. Yelena stood up, gun in hand, and jerked her head in the sign for Kate stand.

Kate picked up the bow she’d left leaning against the bed and swung the quiver over her shoulder.

Yelena peeked through the curtain then took a few steps back to stand in front of her, hand at her side, palm down.

_Stay calm, stay loose, be ready._

Natasha stepped through the door first, looking drawn and pale. Kate took a step forward on reflex, then stopped when Natasha looked at her sharply, looking almost surprised to see her. Natasha’s eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying

Which was impossible because it was Natasha. Natasha stared, she taught, she mocked, and she smirked. Those were her only 4 settings.

Kate’s stomach dropped.

Clint filed in after Natasha and he looked...awful. Technically fine, just a little rumpled around the edges but he was wrecked. She could see it in the lines around his eyes, how dull and glassy his eyes were, in the way his hands opened and closed, the way he looked not at her, but past her.

She tried to breathe but her lungs were tight and she wanted to move, wanted to believe if she looked outside she'd see Phil unloading the car or talking on the phone or anything at all but she was frozen, numb, cold all over because she could feel that something was wrong.

“Katie.” Clint started then stopped, looking like someone had punched him in the stomach and she could relate because she _Wasn’t His Katie_ , (She was Kate, Kit-Kat, Pain in the Ass, Spoiled Brat, Katherine once or twice, Entirely Too Expensive more than once or twice) and she just  _knew._

Someone made a noise and she thought maybe it was her and then the world was moving, jumping up, and all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears.

\-----

She told herself it didn’t matter. That she’d only been with Clint and Phil for a little over five years, which was...nothing really, when you got down to it. They weren’t really her parents, they weren’t, and it didn’t have to hurt this much.

Clint told her what happened, the whole story, even the classified parts.

She cut the purple out of her hair and cried for days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't look at me like that! You knew what was coming.  
> TBC in Prompt 100: Heart
> 
> Timeline: Kate is 13 when the story starts, 16 during the events of IM2/Thor, and 18 during the events of Avengers.


	3. 100. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked up at the farmhouse again and nodded. “Sure. I want to join SHIELD.”
> 
> His eyebrows climbed up until they were practically one with his hairline. “What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will take this Kate/America fluff and YOU WILL LIKE IT. Feel all this fem!slash love.

Kate could hear him, hear him breathing and shifting his weight, making the floorboard creak, just outside of her door. She stood, held her breath, and waited.

She and Clint hadn’t spoken since they’d gotten back from Pennsylvania. She’d all but run into her room and slammed the door, unwilling to leave for longer than it took to run to the bathroom and back. As far as she could tell he’d had a similar idea, sticking to his and Ph- His room. Natasha floated around, making sure they ate and drank and letting Kate know that she was being a cruel brat and that Phil would be heartbroken.

She wanted to yell at Natasha but she was right. Phil wouldn’t want them to be like this, avoiding each other and haunting the apartment like silent ghosts and he sure as hell wouldn’t want her to blame Clint for what had happened.

If he could see this he’d make that ‘I’m not angry but I’m very disappointed’ face that always made Kate want to slink away in shame.

He could want her to pull it together, to open the door for Clint and understand that he had to be hurting too, hurting more.

But she didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to feel that stab of anger because she knew, logically, that none of this was Clint’s fault. It wasn’t. Someone had taken control from him, crawled into his skin, twisted him up and changed him. She could understand that so well, the the fear and shame and burning rage that came with looking at yourself and realizing you were too weak, that you were someone’s victim.

Her mouth tasted like it was full of ash when she thought about it.

She shouldn’t blame him but she did.

She wanted to ask him why he wasn’t stronger, why he didn’t fight harder, why he hadn’t done more, she wanted to scream and fight and break everything.

It was petty, useless, ugly anger and she hated herself for it but she couldn’t manage to keep it down. She wanted someone to be at fault and Loki was gone so there was only Clint.

“Kate.” Clint said and he didn’t sound like himself. “I’m sorry.”

She rocked back on her heels, blinking burning eyes. He sounded sorry, so sorry, and she could see his face, the guilt and apology all over it while he told her that it was him who’d lead the attack the helicarrier, him who was at fault for Loki being loose and able to kill Phil.

He’d looked like he was dying. He sounded like it now, like he was tired and crushed and just wanted it all to be done and over with.

He sighed outside of her door then moved, walked away, and she brought her fist to her mouth and bit down to keep from screaming out her anger.

She couldn’t do this.

\---

The door opened and Kate looked the other woman over on reflex; America was tall, all lean muscle, long expanses of light brown skin, a tacky stars and stripes crop top and tiny tiny blue jean shorts.

“Princess?” She tilted her head to the side, long brown waves falling over her face as she cocked an eyebrow in question. “I’ve been calling you know? Was...you look like shit. What’s up with your hair?”

Kate all but threw herself at the older woman, wrapping arms around her neck and breathing in the scent of apples and cherry blossoms.

“Uh.” America said intelligently. “Okay this? This thing right now? That you’re doing? Freaking me out.”   

Kate let out a noise that was a mixture of a sob, a laugh, and a hiccup then pressed her face in America’s neck.

A hand touched her back, patting hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s...the.” Kate sniffled wetly. “Phil’s funeral is tomorrow.”

America’s face crumpled. “Oh Princess.”

She didn’t even bother looking around to make sure the hallway was empty before she was bending slightly to wrap an arm over Kate’s thighs, just below her butt and taking her off her feet. She used her free hand to shut and lock the door then they were gliding across the floor to the bed.

When America put her down then climbed in after her and hauled the blankets up over them Kate sighed. When America scooted close, pressed warm and soft against her back, and snacked an arm around her waist she sniffled again. When warm lips touched the back of her neck she felt herself unravel completely and she started sobbing all over again.

America’s other hand threaded through her hair. “I’ve got you.”

\-----

The funeral was probably the single most depressing event of Kate’s life. She woke up with America wrapped around her, warm all over and pressing kisses onto her face and lips and it would have been so easy to just sink in and stay.

Unfortunately Natasha knew her entirely too well. Yelena showed up at the door with some of her clothes and makeup and a message from Natasha that promised a world of hurt and regret if she so much as considered weaseling out.

And fine, Kate knew she needed to go. She owed it to Phil. He didn’t have any other family as far as she knew and he’d died to, literally, save the human race. He should have people there who knew him, who loved him, not just some assholes he’d worked with and thought of him as Agent Coulson.

So there she was, stepping out of Yelena’s car and walking across the cemetery towards the sizeable crowd. America had a hand pressed against the small of her back though Kate wasn’t sure if it was to provide comfort or keep her from bolting. Both, maybe. She hadn’t expected America to come but the other woman had been dressed in all black and ready to go when Kate finally stopped panicking in the bathroom.

There were a lot of people she didn’t know sitting in the chairs that had been set up in the grass, probably SHIELD employees and people Phil had known when he was in the army, as evidenced by the dress uniforms some of them were wearing.

Along the front row were the Avengers, save Thor who she knew had gone back to his own planet or dimension or...whatever, Pepper, Fury, Nat, and of course Clint. Clint was sitting ramrod straight, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, and lips set into a thin line.

The chair between Clint and Fury was open. She hesitated, looking at America who offered her a small smile then inclined her head towards an empty section, indicating where she’d be. Kate glanced over, nodded, and stepped away.

She had hoped to get to her seat without anyone talking to her, just wanting to sit down and get things going so it could all be over. But as she passed Pepper and an anxious looking Stark the woman reached out, wrapping long fingers around her wrist. Kate stopped, blinking as the woman stood up and wrapped her into a hug.

Stark made a startled noise.

Oh god. She wasn’t a ‘huggy’ person, she hadn’t grown up with a lot of casual or affectionate touching at all. It took a second to pull her wits together and put her arms up to pat Pepper awkwardly on the back. When she pulled back Kate could see that Pepper’s face was tear stained and her cheeks were bright red, but she still pulled up a smile before patting her on the shoulder and sitting back down.

As she walked away Kate could hear Stark hissing. “Who is that? Why are we hugging strange people Pep? Is that the cellist? She’s like twelve.”

“She’s Phil’s daughter.” Pepper’s voice was thick, so different from the clear strong way she’d spoken at the  wedding.

“Daughter?” Stark repeated. “I didn’t- You never-. Fuck.”

She took her seat and felt herself start to breathe again.

\----

It went by surprisingly fast. She didn’t really hear anything that was said. People stood up and spoke about Phil and it was probably very touching but all she could do was stare straight ahead. Then it was over, she had a flag folded up and sitting in her lap, and people were streaming past, offering condolences to her even though she’d never meet any of them in all of her life.

She didn’t even know how they knew her but they called her by name and shook her hand or hugged her and it was absolutely surreal when someone mentioned that Phil had a picture of her on his desk and talked about her.

Things were dying down and the crowd had thinned a lot before it hit her that half of the people that went by spoke to Clint and the other half just gave him dark looks or ignored him in favor of saying something to her. She watched closer, saw accusation and anger when people she assumed worked for SHIELD snubbed him, and felt things slow down and the numbness that had fallen over her recede, leaving the strange urge to laugh behind.

All these people, giving Clint the evil eye at his husband’s funeral like it wasn’t the last thing in the world Phil would have wanted.

Second to last.

She reached over, grasping, and found Clint’s hand. “He would hate this.”

Clint squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”

\----

They made it back to the apartment that night and Kate did something she’d never done in her entire life. She climbed onto the couch next to him, wiggled around until she tucked against his side, and forced herself to relax. Clint wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed his face against the top of her head, strange and familiar all at once.

She was half afraid he was going to try to apologize again because she was pretty sure that would have pushed her right over the edge into screaming or crying and not being able to stop but he didn’t. Instead he started talking about how he and Phil had met, how Phil had actually shot him and dragged him back to SHIELD in handcuffs

Natasha appeared at some point, not looking at all surprised to see them together, and shoved them aside to make a spot for herself on Clint’s other side.

“Stark seems to have gotten the idea into his head that you’re sleeping with Phil’s poor grieving daughter.”

Clint grimaced, looking disgusted. “What?”

Natasha’s lips quirked into a mocking grin. “The handholding, leaving together. It seems no one told the rest of the team about you and Phil. They think he was dating a cellist?” She looked down at her dark red nails. “Anyway, I told Pepper to leave it. Funnier this way.”

Kate let out a snort of laughter then slapped her hands over her mouth, horrified. Guilt slithered in her stomach; not even a week and she was laughing? How could she?

“Phil would love that.” Clint said firmly. “He loved fucking with Stark.”

\----

Captain ‘Please call me Steve’ America came by the apartment a few days later. He had a very ‘aww shucks’ awkward quality to him. Also: smoking hot. When Steve stopped to look at Clint suspiciously, Kate pulled a face at Natasha and got a smirk that was clearly saying ‘I know, right?’ back.

It was awkward, all around, but also incredibly sweet. He told her that he hadn’t known Phil well (Except he said ‘your father’ and stumbled over it while looking like a sad puppy) and he wished there was something he could have done and Phil seemed like a genuinely good person and there weren’t nearly enough of those in the world.

Clint had smiled behind his coffee mug at that.

He finished up by telling her if there was anything she ever needed he’d do it. As it turned out there was something so she told him to stay put and ran off to her bedroom to grab the arctic ice snow globe thing. She fought not to laugh at the bemused expression on his face while she explained that she was pretty sure Phil had chipped it right off of him and brought it back as a gift for her. (Which was untrue. She had no idea is this particular chunk of ice had been part of Cap’s ice cocoon or not but she enjoyed how disturbed he looked at the prospect.)

He signed it, shaking his head slightly.

\---

Stark and Banner came by together. Stark called her ‘Tiny Agent’ and ‘Agent Junior’ and Kate felt strangely warmed as he explained that he’d found Phil to be entirely too stuffy and kind of weird with the Cap fanboyism, but that Pepper had really liked him so he couldn't have been all bad. Then Stark informed her that he was planning to set up a scholarship in her name and would be paying her tuition to literally any school she wanted wherever she wanted.

Whatever it was, full ride, no questions asked.

Kate thanked him, accepted a hug from Banner who’d stayed silent the entire time. and then sat up the entire night thinking about what she wanted to do with herself.

\---

“A farm.” Kate said, standing in front of the slightly rundown building with her arms crossed over her chest. Clint was standing next to her, head tilted to the side.

“Fury’s idea. He thinks a change in location might be in order.”

She could see that. The apartment was kind of..depressing now, with echos of Phil everywhere they turned. And yet.

“You chose a farm.”

He smiled wanly. “I grew up on a farm.”

“And you turned out so well.” She used her shoulder to bump him lightly. His smile became a little more genuine.

“Point.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Guess we should see what needs done.”

She looked up at the farmhouse again and nodded. “Sure. I want to join SHIELD.”

His eyebrows climbed up until they were practically one with his hairline. “What?”

She smirked then started for the house, jogging over to the porch and up the stairs. Clint was at her heels and when he’d caught up he put a hand on her shoulder and turned her so they were looking at each other.

“You know you can do whatever you want. Phil would be proud no matter what.”

Her heart lurched and she nodded, mouth suddenly dry. She knew that, she really did and didn’t doubt it at all, but, at the same time she knew that he’d believed in SHIELD, in protecting people  even at the cost of his life and that meant something.  

“Look. I’ve got Russian spies for aunts and my adoptive fathers are a carnie turned SHIELD specialist and _Agent Phil Coulson_.” She said Phil’s name in the same reverent tone she’d heard people saying it when she’d gone in to talk to Fury last week. “My only skills of note are archery and punching things hard.”

And maybe she liked to think he’d be extra proud of this.

\----

“If it isn’t Miss America and Hawkeye Junior.” Kate looked up from her stretch to see Agent Shad standing over her. America, who’d been hammering away on a punching bag that Kate couldn’t help but feel bad for, stopped what she was doing and glanced at Kate questioningly.

Kate flipped to her feet smoothly and smiled what she hoped was nicely. “Been a while Agent Shad.”

“Six years.” The woman nodded as she spoke. “I heard a rumor that you were joining and had brought an Enhanced along with you.”

Brought was a pretty generous term. More like she’d told America she was joining SHIELD and woman had invited herself along in spite of Kate’s protests. Fury, of course, had been thrilled to have someone with superhuman strength willingly join up.

“I’m one of the trainers here.” Here being the SHIELD Academy of Operations. Kate’s mind was still pretty blown by the fact that she was, essentially, in spy college. “I look forward to seeing what Agent Coulson and Agent Barton have taught you.”

When the woman had left them America snorted, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Hawkeye Junior?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too used to it.”

\---

“Hawkeye, do you have the shot?”

She drew back, feeling the way the wire tensed. Her back muscles tightened and locked. She blinked, forcing herself to calm.

“Hawkeye?” The tinny voice in her ear repeated.

She exhaled and-

The arrow flew, striking her target between the eyes.

Inhaled.

“Target neutralized.”

\----

She fell into step with him as they walked down the corridor to the waiting transport. “Both of us huh?”

“Yep.” He popped the P then flashed her a grin that bordered on gleeful. “America and Cap too, on the ground. Alien artifacts in the hands of a mutant extremist group based in Laos.”

They stepped into the hangar where Steve was standing in full Captain America uniform. America was standing close by in what Kate had dubbed her Miss America getup: a dark blue version of the SHIELD tac suit, boasting a silver star on the belt.

Steve pushed off the wall when he spotted them and started talking as soon as they were close enough. “So far we’ve got confirmations on four different rings. Fire, ice, disintegration beam-” If possible Clint looked even more excited. “and some kind of impact beam.”

“Sounds fun.” She pushed her sunglasses down so they rested on her nose.

“That’s my girl.” Clint said quietly.  

\---

She wasn’t surprised to find Natasha and Clint waiting at the farmhouse when she finally made her way back to the states. Kate had been overseas on a mission dealing with some human experimentation using gamma radiation when literally everything had gone down. The satellites, the coms, the tech: Everything.

Then one of her squadmates had tried to kill her, which had been...a downer. She’d kind of liked the guy but one minute he’d been fine, if not a little nervous about all the stuff crashing on them, and the next he’d been looking down at something on his phone and whipping out his gun, emptying the clip into the rest of their team.

The only thing that had saved her was that the other agent hadn’t been expecting her to be as adept at close quarters combat as she was. Clearly no one had told him she’d learned everything she knew at the Black Widow school of combat (and she had the scars to prove it).  

It had taken two weeks to get home and she hadn’t dared to contact anyone, unsure about what was going on. And then she’d figured it out and she’d been even more afraid to contact anyone. Hydra, that so called defunct fringe terrorist group, had been so deep in SHIELD that it basically was SHIELD. She’d been working for Hyrdra.

She was in the family business after all.  

Clint met her at the door and she was pulled into a crushing hug before she could realize what was going on. She made a surprised noise then glanced over Clint’s shoulder to see Natasha standing and watching. Her hair was dyed a warm brown, she wearing what looked like one of Clint’s plaid shirts and jeans, and she looked...relieved.

Kate let herself relax and hug Clint back.

That night they were attacked, something that should have been impossible because the farm was under a false name and no one but Fury and America should have been aware of it’s location, both of whom were more likely to die than give them up.

She was on the couch, painting Natasha’s nails while Clint focused on Dog Cops when Lucky suddenly stood up and whined. Natasha didn’t falter in the story she was telling about Yelena’s latest mission but Kate saw her reaching with her free hand for the knife they kept strapped underneath the couch. Clint laughed at something on the TV and yawned as his hand crept towards the bow behind the couch.

Kate’s eyes flickered to the fireplace where she knew a pair of handguns were behind a false brick.

The power went out, plunging them into darkness, and glass shattered from somewhere in the house. Kate leapt up, reaching for where she knew the fake brick was, when she heard a metallic thud and rattling.

“Cover your-”

The world went white and maddeningly loud then completely silent. Kate didn’t stumble or clutch her ears like she wanted to. Something brushed against her and she lashed out, fist striking something firm and warm. She was struck back, a fist to the face then her arm was grabbed and wrenched behind her. Something sharp pricked her neck and, all at once, she felt a chilling numb feeling starting to creep out from that point. The cool barrel of a gun pressed against her forehead.

Her vision was returning, black spots dancing before her eyes, and she could see Clint and Natasha both standing, guns trained on them. A woman was standing in the middle of the living room and it took a moment for Kate to recognize her.

Agent Shad. She tried to open her mouth to say something, anything, but the numbness was spreading fast and she was already feeling heavy and clumsy, unable to command her body to listen to her.

“We should take them all.” A voice said from above Kate’s head.

Shad shook her head tightly. “Just the girl. We don’t have the manpower to hold Hawkeye and the Widow. Better to just shoot them.”

Clint and Natasha didn’t react at all. Kate knew they wouldn’t, not until they were sure they could do so without her being hurt.

“But Black Widow-”

There was a cracking noise and the person holding her jerked backwards. Kate fell forward in a heap on the ground, unable to catch herself or...do anything actually, except stare at the ground while listening to the sounds of fighting and gunfire all around her. She could see a puddle of red starting to spread out in front of her eyes and hope frantically it wasn’t from her and that someone would flip her over before she drowned or something.

Stupid fast acting SHIELD paralytics.

Eventually, what felt like forever later her field of view changed and she was hauled up and dumped onto the couch. Clint hovered over her, expression unreadable. There was a shuffling noise to his side and he glared in that general direction then moved to the side to allow her to see-

“Katie.”

\---

A nervous looking woman named Simmons stuck her with something that returned feeling to her limbs and then was shuffled out along with the rest of Phil’s team. They sat down, Phil in a chair pulled from the kitchen and the three of them together on the couch and the pain and disbelief was so thick in the room it was like it has an actual physical presence, like it was another person crowded onto the couch with them.

The story came pouring out and it’s like a horror movie.

Dead for six days then brought back on Fury’s order. Project TAHITI, actual alien DNA used to heal the damage to Phil’s heart. The effects, the insanity, the pain, begging to be allowed to die- Kate grabbed Clint’s hand and squeezed so hard she knew it hard to hurt but Clint kept his lips pressed into an angry bloodless line-and then the mind wipes.

The first time they’d just taken away what he remembered about coming back to life, made him think he’d only been dead a few minutes and then vacationed in Tahiti except he’d know it wasn’t right, that there was no way he’d leave Clint and Kate and Natasha and just go lounge on some island somewhere, so he’d plunged headfirst back into insanity. So they’d tried again, on Fury’s order, and taken it all. Took his relationship with Clint away, made him believe they’d only ever worked together, took away how close he and Natasha were, and then wiped Kate out entirely. They’d taken away the one thing more important to him to his job, that might make him start asking questions: his family.

He was fairly certain the leak regarding the farmhouse had been Agent Sitwell, who Fury had unwisely trusted with the information and enlisted to help make sure that Phil never crossed paths with any of them at the HUB or any of the other facilities.

It was Fury who’d suspected that, considering what a pain Phil had become for Hydra lately, someone might be after his family. The farmhouse had been under surveillance for a two days by Phil’s team, waiting to see if it looked like something was actually going to happen.

He still didn’t have the proper memories back, though he ‘knew’ what he was missing, having been informed of the 'basics' by Melinda May.

At that Clint had jumped to his feet and walked out of the house, door slamming shut after him. Natasha spared a glance for Kate who nodded shakily then went after him, leaving her with Phil. He looked at her with a mixture of regret and curiosity. Kate couldn’t say anything at all because if she opened her mouth she was pretty sure she was going to be sick.

His looked away from her and turn his attention to the room, eyes drifting over all the odds and ends and personal touches, then stopping on the mantel above the fireplace. Kate looked too even though she knew each of the pictures up there.

Her and her friends at senior prom. Clint and Phil at the wedding, in their suits with those dark purple ties, smiling softly at each other. The three of them that same day, Clint on her left and Phil on her right, while she and Clint pulled ridiculous faces and Phil looked at them with fond resignation. Natasha and Clint at the table in the farmhouse, holding cups of coffee and steadfastly ignoring her and her camera. And, finally, all four of them on someone’s birthday (Phil’s judging by the sheer volume of candles in the cake and the exasperated look on his face).

Phil blinked slowly then turned back to her. “Looks like it was a good life.”

She breathed in then exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah.”

\---

It wasn’t the same. Phil was still dedicated to SHIELD, the new director of all things, and Clint was so done with SHIELD he wouldn’t have given a shit if it never got itself back together.

Kate didn’t know what she thought. She was glad Phil was alive, it was a literal dream come true, but at the same time it was kind of a nightmare. Everything that had happened to Phil, everything Fury had given his approval for, the fact they were basically strangers now? That was just

She couldn’t even put it into words.

She stuck to the farmhouse, save a few missions at Phil’s request. She wasn’t sure she cared about saving SHIELD but she cared about Phil and something about him reaching out to her, trusting her abilities, helped her get past some of the awfulness of the situation.

Also the general awkwardness of Phil’s little sidekick, Skye. Kate didn’t like her for purely selfish and bitter reasons and she was pretty sure both Skye and Phil knew it.

America visited in between her ‘reclaim SHIELD’ missions. Clint and Natasha were at the house when not hunting Hydra and Loki’s scepter with an almost disturbing kind of single mindedness.

She got a call when they found  the scepter, told her there was a party and hey, Clint had almost died but he was fine now, no worries, but she declined the invite. Turned out to be for the best since, apparently, Stark had built a robot bent on world domination or destruction or...whatever.

When the Avengers converged on the house Phil was there with her, waiting. He’d driven in from somewhere, without the rest of his team, and floated around the house, acting kind of strange.

Stranger than she’d started to get used to, anyway.

He happened to be on the second floor when they came and was only just coming down the stairs when Stark launched into a rant about Clint ‘Really sleeping with Agent’s daughter, what the hell, that’s just wrong’. Phil had slid into the room, wryly stating that he hoped Clint wasn’t sleeping with her considering Clint was still legally married to him. Also it would be gross.

The reactions were almost worth how weird things had been. Seeing Phil’s small smile, the one that caused the skin around the corners of his eyes to crinkle up and the way Clint’s expression melted into something soft and hopeful, just for a second, made it absolutely worth it.

\---

Living in Avenger’s Tower took adjustment. Mostly because of Pietro and Wanda. Wanda was just creepy and as much as Kate wanted to like Pietro (he had, after all, taken a bunch of bullets in order to protect Clint and then died only to be brought back by his creepy sister and the less Kate thought about that whole thing the better) he was an asshole.

An actual asshole.

Clint liked them though, but pretended not to which was par for the course with him, had basically appointed himself their handler, moved them into rooms on their floor of the tower (making it the most populated room with her, Clint, Natasha, and the twins) and had refused to let them be questioned about their former shady dealing as freedom fighters (a fancy word for terrorist) and with Ultron.

But with time it settled and Kate got used to them. Worse, she actually liked them.

It burned her to admit it.

She went back to working for SHIELD, willing to admit that whole thing with Ultron and Sokovia was enough to restore her shaken faith. SHIELD wasn’t fixed and it wasn’t perfect but Phil was trying and that was enough for her.

She woke up one Sunday and shuffled out of her room to the common area, lured out by the scent of bacon. Then stopped, blinking owlishly.

Natasha, Banner, and the twins were sitting at the table, all trying to spear pancakes from a huge stack in the middle. Clint was in the kitchen, smiling widely at Phil and trying to cop a feel, heedless of the catcalls from Pietro.

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, and caught Wanda looking at her curiously.

“Is something wrong Katherine?” Even her name was creepy when Wanda said it. “You look bothered.”

Everyone was looking at her now. Clint’s smile dimmed fractionally.

“I mean. Yeah. What the hell is this?” She asked, shaking her head. “Someone’s using the kitchen to cook? Did I fall into an alternate dimension? I hear that happens.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so finishes the story of Kate Bishop in my little Jason and the Avengers-Verse. ...I need a better name for it. Also a total lack of Jason Todd, which kind of feels weird considering the 'verse. but this wasn't about him so whatever. 
> 
> Next Time: Prompt 74: Candyland- It’s board game night in the tower. It’s more dangerous than most people would expect. Clint is probably cheating, Natasha is cheating but everyone is afraid to call her on it, Jason and Bucky are just *violent*, and Pietro is a little shit.


End file.
